Lodi
by yllwcrd
Summary: Remy Dean, the amateur singer-songwriter, is playing in Lodi for the fifth time this month; except this night is different. When a group of bikers walks into the bar, Remy is instantly attracted to the one with a cheesy smile and goofy mohawk


**This idea has been floating through my head every now and then, and I love CCR so here y'all go. Sorry it sucks**

* * *

_J__ust about a year ago_

_I set out on the road_

_Seekin´ my fame and fortune_

_Lookin´ for a pot of gold_

_Things got bad and things got worse_

_I guess you know the tune_

_Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again_

**Somewhere between Redding and Lodi, CA, 20-**

If you asked 6-year-old Remy Dean where she saw herself in 20 years, she would have said as a famous singer. The walls of her room were covered in posters of her favourite bands, singers, and albums, which travelled with her between foster homes. She was raised by the sounds of Stevie Nicks, Dolly Parton, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, and so many more. There wasn't a day that went by where the small record player in her bedroom wasn't blasting something for her to sing and dance along to, which always warranted getting yelled at by her foster parents. When Remy turned 13 and her birth mother had given her an acoustic guitar, she spent every other day at the library looking for new songs to learn, quickly mastering them. By 17, her GED and guitar in hand, Remy had worked enough random jobs to afford a campervan that had been sitting in some old couples backyard for over a decade and started heading west towards California, hopefully leaving boring, lonely Montana behind her forever.

Now, at 26 years old, Remy couldn't help but daydream of how she thought her life would have been by now. 9 years ago when she left home with her guitar and her shitty campervan from the '80s, Remy was like every other person who sets out to California. Searching for fame, fortune, and everything that comes with it. With a bitter laugh, Remy shook her head. Now nearly a decade down the road, Remy's life was nothing like she wanted it to be. Her campervan had died out on her a few months prior, but because she had set up so many gigs in advance she was stuck continuing the tour whatever way she could. Which just so happened to be a Greyhound bus.

So now, Remy was stuck on a smelly overcrowded bus. The large man next to her, who smelled suspiciously like beef and cheese, had long since fallen asleep on her shoulder. Her shoulder was aching, her iPod was close to dying, and she was running out of room in her songwriting book. Only a few more hours to her destination, and Remy couldn't be happier. She was exhausted, and quite frankly wanted to get the fuck away from the crazy people on this bus.

Leaning her head against the window, Remy watched as a large group of motorcycles passed the bus. The men riding them, their backs covered in leather kuttes and Remy swore the reaper sewn onto the back gave her a wink as it flew past.

_Rode in on the Greyhound_

_I´ll be walkin´ out if I go_

_I was just passin´ through_

_Must be seven months or more_

_Ran out of time and money_

_Looks like they took my friend_

_Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again_

**Lodi, CA. 20-**

Stepping off the bus, Remy let out a sigh as she walked through the station with her guitar case in hand, and backpack of clothing on her back. She waved at the woman in the ticket booth, who always seemed to be working whenever she showed up in the quiet city.

The walk to Pat's, the bar she was playing tonight, was a short one. The feeling of being able to stretch out her legs after the hours spent on the Greyhound was a welcomed one. Passing a group of men who were sitting on a front stoop of a barbershop, she listened as they cat-called her and threw high-pitched whistles her way. Remy shot them all a flirty smile, watching as their eyes trailed from her combat boots up her long tan legs which were showcased by a short denim skirt.

"Like what you see, boys?" She smirked, stopping in front of the group of men. "You can see more of it later at Pat's around 9" Remy gave a short laugh before continuing her walk to the bar. What the men thought she would be doing at Pat's was up to their imagination, but they would have to pay the cover charge to get in.

A short time later, Remy was sitting in an empty bar chatting with the bartenders as they set up for the night. She always insisted on helping them, and they were always adamant that she should relax before her set. Remy sipped on her whiskey, smiling as she watched Eric, the head bartender, prepare the register in anticipation of the evening. Remy knew that Pats usually filled up quickly once doors opened, and she was excited to get to do her thing.

At ten minutes to opening, Remy got Eric to give her another glass of whisky and a bottle of water before the rush of people came in. She leaned back against the bar and admired the way her beloved guitar glinted in the stage lights.

She had gotten it almost 13 years ago, at the tender age of 13. It was a Christmas present from her Mom, the only one she had ever gotten. Having spent her entire life in the foster system had moulded Remy into an independent, strong woman who knew how to take care of herself. So when her birth mother had gotten in contact before her 13th birthday, Remy was hesitant and knew it was too good to be true. A month later when her mother had shown up on Christmas day with an acoustic guitar in hand and a glazed over look in her eye, Remy was certain she had to cut the ties before she got attached to the woman. Her guitar remained her only memory of the addict who had brought her into this shitty world, but Remy had gone through too much with her guitar to get rid of it now. It was worn and had lost the varnish on the front from her strumming. There was something loose on the inside, and Remy was sure there was a small collection of picks hiding in there due to the incessant rattling noise whenever she picked it up. The well-loved guitar matched her hands, worn and ratty looking. String marks evident in her fingertips at all times, calloused and rough from the constant playing. Remy looked every part of the travelling rock and roll artist in every sense. Long, unkempt hair paired with eyebags that looked like she hadn't slept in years were hidden by a wide brim hat and a pair of dark sunglasses. When the sunglasses were removed, the piercing grey eyes surrounded by smudged eyeliner pinned people to their spot in awe. Remy knew she was considered attractive, but her bitchy attitude and rough mannerisms usually turned people off of her.

"Rem, doors are opening now" Eric called from the front door, turning the key in the lock. Immediately, a wave of people rushed in with excited energy that revived Remy from her catatonic state. She usually tried not to think of her past, especially the witch who birthed her. Remy reached into the pocket of her cropped leather jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. Lighting one, Remy inhaled the smoke with hooded eyes. The nicotine rushed to her head and she gave a small smile. She watched as the large bar filled up to standing room only, and glared at people as they tried shoving her away from the bar so they could order.

At half-past 9, Eric made his way over to the stage and was met with a few excited cheers. Some of the patrons were already drunk and were cheering louder than normal, which caused Remy to smile wide. This would be a fun set.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm proud to introduce you to the coolest songwriter I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. She can and will kick your ass, so I would keep the catcalls to a minimum, gents" Eric gave a wink, "Now I'll get my ugly mug off the stage and back behind the bar, so please welcome Remy Dean!"

Remy smiled and stood from her stool at the bar. She grabbed her drinks and made her way to the stage, ears being assaulted by the loud yells and cheers of the crowded bar. The feeling that overcame her was one that she loved, the adoration of people who came to hear her music. It was almost better than sex, _almost. _

"Hey guys" Remy spoke into the microphone, pulling her guitar strap over her head. "Thanks for coming out tonight, I really appreciate it. Although, I think some of you are probably just here because there's nothing better to do in Lodi on a Saturday night" She chuckled and was met with a wave of laughter from the audience.

"I'm opening with a cover of a favourite of mine, I hope you find it amusing and ironic" Remy smirked before diving into the song easily.

It was almost 11 at night and Juice's ass was getting sore from riding all day. The SAMCRO boys had been on a run up in Washington and were on their way back to Charming, but they had left later than they wanted to because Tig had been busy with a pair of croweaters in the SAMTAC clubhouse. Chibs was also feeling sore and knew they should be stopping for the night soon. With a nod of confirmation from Jax, he pulled into the first place he could find in Lodi that looked open, a bar just off the main strip. Juice read the sign and couldn't help but laugh. Of course, Chibs would choose an Irish pub, Pat's, as the place to stop. The man was always complaining of not being able to find a _real_ pub in America and seemed determined to hit up every Irish pub on the west coast.

The group of outlaws parked their bikes in a line in the only available space in the lot. Juice was shocked at the number of people that seemed to be in the bar and wondered if that many people even lived in Lodi. With a chuckle, Juice climbed off his bike and followed the rest of the group into the bar.

Upon hearing the raspy voice singing over the crowd, Juice froze. He had never heard a woman sound so sexy and demanding of attention before. He was enamoured before even seeing the woman, and knew he was no doubt going to get made fun of by his fellow brothers.

The moment he saw her though, Juice was whipped. Her slim frame looked absolutely delicious in the short denim skirt that barely covered her legs, and the leather jacket she was wearing made more than a few fantasies flicker through his mind. He couldn't see her face entirely and he felt a little disappointed. Juice knew that no matter what her eyes looked like, he would want those plump red-painted lips wrapped around his cock.

Happy had managed to shove his way to the bar, no doubt having said absolutely nothing to force the people out of his way. He ordered a beer and moved to find somewhere where the group of outlaws could even stand together, let alone sit. As the rest of his brothers grabbed a beer, Juice listened to the girl on stage in awe. Her voice was soft and raspy, singing a cover of a song Juice vaguely recognized from his childhood. Once Juice got his beer, he didn't move to join his brothers. Instead, he leaned back against the bar and watched the enchanting woman on the stage as she easily strummed the worn guitar.

Remy had noticed the group of bikers as soon as they had walked into the bar. It was kind of hard to miss the group of leather-clad men being led by the scariest man she had ever seen, and a handsome blonde with a smirk on his face which Remy knew was probably permanent. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the last man, though. He had a cheesy smile on his face and the only mohawk Remy had ever considered _cute_, which was hugged by two tribal tattoos. She was experienced enough that her voice never wavered, having played this song at least 100 times before, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to ignore the goofy biker staring at her from the bar.

Once the song finished, Remy gave a soft smile. "I'm gonna take a quick break before I come back up and finish my set. Take this chance to go buy another drink" Putting down her guitar on the stand, Remy took a sip of water from the bottle next to it. Once she stood to her full height, Remy checked to make sure the hot biker was still at the bar. Seeing him in the same place, his eyes still on her, Remy made her way over to him through the crowd. Her hips were swinging and she knew he was checking her out but she couldn't find it in her to care.

"Hi there, Handsome" Remy smiled as she approached the smiling man. Now that she was closer, she couldn't take her eyes off him. She was admiring his bicep as he scratched the back of his head with a chuckle before she realized she had been caught blatantly checking him out too.

"Hi" he smiled, "I'm Juice" He gave her a grin that Remy swore soaked her panties right through.

"My name's Remy. Nice to meet you, _Juice_" Remy purred as she sidled up to the man. Juice was shocked at how forward the woman was being without throwing herself at him. He was used to croweaters who would already be on their knees without even saying two words, not women who clearly knew what they wanted.

"Why don't you buy me a drink, Juice?" Remy smiled as the man jumped to get the bartender's attention. Eric was already behind them, sliding Remy's usual glass of whiskey in front of her.

Remy threw her head back, laughing as the wind whipped her hair behind her as she clutched onto Juice's waist. They were flying down the highway from Lodi, travelling to the small town of Charming. Juice had managed to convince Remy to make the journey with him on the back of his bike, not that she needed a whole lot of convincing. Having talked over drinks during Remy's short intermission, the singer found herself enamoured by the mohawked outlaw. When he had approached her as she was packing up her stuff at the end of her set, she had been a little surprised that he had invited her back to the clubhouse and couldn't stop herself from agreeing. She had stashed her guitar behind the bar with Eric, promising to be back in time for her set the next evening, and climbed on the back of Juice's bike with no issues.

They were just passing the "Welcome to Charming" sign when Juice felt Remy's hands slip under his shirt and start gently running her fingers along his abs. Her fingers felt cool against his hot skin and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. Remy tugged gently at the trail of hair running into the top of his jeans, placing hot kisses on the back of his neck. Juice placed a hand over her trailing one, trying to still it. Remy responded only with a nip to the back of his neck and moved her hand lower to palm him through his jeans. Juice felt her lips turn into a smirk as she felt how hard he was already through his jeans. As Remy firmly grabbed his length through the rough denim, Juice pulled off onto a gravel side road with no street lights.

_The man from the magazine_

_Said I was on my way_

_Somewhere I lost connections_

_Ran out of songs to play_

_I came into town a one night stand_

_Looks like my plans fell through_

_Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again_

It was now probably early morning and Remy was sitting on one of the couches in the SAMCRO clubhouse, surrounded by a large group of the outlaws. After Remy and Juice had had their fun on the gravel road, they had gone back to the clubhouse and joined in on one of the infamous mother charter parties. It had only taken a few hours of pestering before Remy finally agreed to play a few songs for the club.

That was how she found herself sitting on the couch, some prospects beat-up guitar in hand and singing gruffly. Her usually raspy voice was now heavier since she had been chain-smoking and drinking heavily all night. She had been playing only covers of songs, but finally worked up the courage to play one of her own songs.

"Hell Lass! You write tha' yourself?" Chibs asked, sipping a beer. Remy blushed and nodded, not being able to get a good read on Chibs' reaction.

"You're really good. Think you'll ever make it big?" The man with slicked-back blond hair asked. Juice leaned closer and whispered his name in Remy's ear. Remy shot him a smile in thanks, having already forgotten most of the men's names.

"I thought I was gonna, a few years ago, got interviewed for a magazine and everything. Met a bunch of big CEO types. Ended up just a bunch of guys who told me I couldn't write for shit but had the body to make it big if I was willing to sing other people's songs" Remy shrugged. The group all looked at her in shock and she had been so close to making it big, but fuck if she wasn't making it big with her own work.

"Anyways, anyone have any requests or can I go get fucked now?" Remy giggled, trying her best to lighten the suddenly sombre mood. She was met with a few chuckles from the group surrounding her.

"No requests, sorry," Juice said, standing and pulling Remy up with him. Remy placed the acoustic guitar down where she had been sitting and laughed as Juice pulled her back towards the dorms. Their retreating backs were met with wolf whistles and laughter.

"Thank God. I've been thinking about you inside me all night" Remy mumbled, pushing Juice into the wall and pressing a hot kiss to his mouth. She was met with eager hands, pulling her tightly against his body. Juice rolled his hips into hers and Remy nibbled on his neck. It took them forever to even reach Juice's dorm with their lips connected and Remy wrapped around his body.

_If I only had a dollar_

_For every song I´ve sung_

_And every time I had to play_

_While people sat there drunk_

_You know, I´d catch the next train_

_Back to where I live_

_Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again_

_Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi_ _again_


End file.
